Befores and Afters
by Negotiatrix
Summary: Faye was debating her next move and feeling decidedly sorry for herself. Out of money, out of luck and out of her mind drunk. Again. Some things just never change.
1. After

_Takes place after the series ends. It will have 4 parts when completed. -N_

**BEFORES AND AFTERS**

Part 1: After

"Sex! That's what it's all about!" Faye declared, and stabbed at the overburdened ashtray with her cigarette. From the day she woke up from the cold sleep it was all about sex. That was the first lesson she learned about this world she found herself in: sex, or at least the promise of it, was a commodity.That promise was even more powerful than money because it could get you money. Yep, that's what Whitney had taught her.

The barkeep leaned over the counter towards her and smirked. "You don't believe in love, baby?" he asked, his eyes dropping down to her neckline. Faye reached down to her boot while looking at him with all the vehemence which the memory of Whitney brought up. The barkeep stumbled back under her glare, as well as the influence of the Glock which now materialized in front of his face.

"Love," she said witheringly, "is just a four-letter word for sex!" Faye angrily kicked over her stool and holstered the gun as she rose from the bar. Shit! What had her musing on love in the bowels of a TJ dive anyway? This kind of drunken musing never did her any good. It was time to go do something productive . . . like gambling.

Five hours, and a couple thousand woolongs later, Faye was sitting in the Redtail debating her next move and feeling decidedly sorry for herself. Out of money, out of luck and out-of-her-mind drunk. Again. Some things just never change, she sniffed in self-pity. Like the Bebop. It was still out there in orbit; she had checked. Not that it mattered or anything. She did _not_ want to go back to the Bebop. That was just out of the question after what happened.

Faye sighed. There it was again, the big "What Happened." Right there in the front of her mind screaming, "Think about me! I happened and you have to think about me!" Well she wasn't going to think about it, dammit! She was going to puke, and then go to sleep. 'Sounds like a plan,' she thought.

The fierce banging on her hatch cover did little to muffle the parking attendant's cursing. "This ain't no damn hotel, lady!" he screamed amidst the curses. Bleary-eyed, Faye smoothed her hair and replaced her headband, then slowly stepped out of the Redtail, hoping she looked more graceful than she felt. The attendant continued his tirade, demanding extra money for not calling the cops on her, and then threatening to impound her ship for nonpayment. She ignored the attendant and spent some time strategically adjusting and smoothing her outfit. She gave a pull to her collar, settled her shorts further down on her hips, and turned to bend over and adjust her boots. There, that little performance shut him up. When she finished, Faye leaned over to look the attendant in his pockmarked face, smiled her most seductive smile and said, "Bite me!" Jumping back into the Redtail she gunned it skyward, pausing just a moment to pulse the jets in the air over the weasel's head for good measure.

"Now see, there's a guy who does what he'd supposed to," Faye said to herself. "Hey, look! Boobs!" she said sarcastically, and he was hers to manipulate or ignore. She had never bothered thinking of sex as much more than a tool. It was useful for getting her way, but only when that was the only way. Over the years she had found that she was just as good a con-artist as Whitney had been. The mere hint of getting laid made most men she encountered do as she wished. Sometimes, if the guy seemed interesting enough, or the favor had been big enough, she rewarded him. Most times she just left them hanging. And if the guy had other ideas, well . . . that's when her Glock came in handy. It was a pretty good system. Faye had even enjoyed some of her experiences. But no one had ever made her want to come back for more, and she had never sought out sex for anything other than selfish reasons. Now she wondered what was going on in her own head.

Faye took the Redtail into orbit and cut the jets. She looked toward the gate and could see the Bebop in the distance. Why did she give a shit what Jet thought? He wasn't the only one who was hurting after what happened to Spike! What had happened. There was another one screaming to be thought about. Well, it was easier to handle so she decided she'd think about it. Spike was dead. She tested that thought out, repeated it a few times to see how it felt. Spike. Dead. It felt like . . . nothing. What was she supposed to feel? Should she be screaming, raging, breaking stuff? Hadn't she been in love with him? Well, no. She hadn't ever really thought she was. It had just seemed like she should be. He had seemed so very much like her that it made sense if she was in love with him, so for a while she had told herself she was. But now she realized that while she did love him, she hadn't been_ in_ love. Not that she knew exactly what the difference was. But maybe it was like he was a brother? Yeah, that seemed right, like it fit. After all weren't brothers and sisters_ supposed_ to fight all the time?

The dashboard of the cockpit suddenly swam before Faye's eyes. She put her hand up to her face and realized she was crying. She heard a choking sound that was her own sob, and finally just let go.

For the second time in less than twenty-four hours Faye was awoken rudely and found herself decidedly worse for the wear. The difference this time was that what roused her was the beeping of the comm, and her swollen eyes were not the result of too much alcohol. She checked the signal and found it was a bookie's auto-advertiser trying to get her back down to the races before post time. How the hell did those things get her number anyway? Of course, with her record of losing bets, every bookie in the solar system would want her in their dialer database. At least I'm a hot commodity for someone, Faye thought bitterly. Yeah, it was back. That other What Happened thing. And this time she was sober so every little detail of the humiliating memory was crystal clear.

She was spared any more serious reflection by catching sight of the Bebop passing through the gate into. Faye shook her fist and yelled, "What the hell does he think he's doing! Leaving me here in this dump of an asteroid? Didn't he see me sitting out here?" She huffed indignantly and hastily brought the Redtail's jets online so she could go give him hell for leaving her here on her own. Again. Faye's fingers stilled. "Fine. JUST FINE, YOU SHIT!" she screamed at the now-disappeared Bebop. "I don't need this crap! I did just fine on my own before and I will again!"


	2. Before

- Okay, I finally let my husband read this and he pointed out a few, rather embarrassing errors. Like the Swordfish doesn't have engines on the wings (oops! I just don't pay attention to that mechanical stuff!). So I fixed that, and a couple dumb spelling mistakes and reuploaded. So here you have a new part two! -Neg

Part Two: Before

That night had been strange, even for Faye, and she was well acquainted with strange. It had been preceded by a long, bad day. The only bounty they had caught in two months had escaped during the transfer and ISSP blamed them, refusing to pay the bounty. Jet of course had blamed Faye, who accused him in turn. By evening the sniping had stopped, replaced by an awful silence. Losing even a measly $80,000 woolongs was made worse by a lack of food and no reception on the TV. Faye had sat on the sofa, morosely pushing Jet's cooking around on her plate. They had exchanged several half-hearted barbs over the quality of the fare, but neither had their heart in it.

Already in a lousy mood, Faye had found herself thinking of the one thing, or person rather, that would make it worse: Spike. Since misery loved company Faye couldn't help but make sure Jet was just as miserable as she. "We've got a real party going on here!" Faye snapped sarcastically, walking to the window and lighting a cigarette. "Good thing Spike's not here to laugh at us." She had stared out into the space above Mars, waiting for the inevitable explosion and yelling match to begin. She needed some kind of fight, but it hadn't come. She focused on the reflection of the room behind her in the window and saw Jet disappearing through the doorway toward his bonsai room. Then she heard the door close; not slammed or banged, just closed.

'Well I can eat in peace now at least' Faye thought, slumping down on the sofa again. Abandoning the cigarette she picked up her chopsticks, but the food was even less appealing than it had been before. She had been the one to break the unspoken rule. Faye sighed and flopped her head back, letting the ceiling fan's slow rotations mesmerize her.

They had both been going in circles too, for weeks now. Some things were the same as always, like arguing over money. But other things had changed, since what happened. Jet used to be the tough one, the leader of their gang. Now the gang was broken up and Jet's tough-and-gruff attitude was gone as well. Oh, he tried still, but he didn't seem to find that same perverse pleasure in goading her that he used to. A few days after what had happened he had gone and gotten the Swordfish out of impound. He'd had it towed to the Bebop, saying "I'm too big to fly that toy of Spike's!" Faye later thought that maybe he just couldn't bring himself to get near the Swordfish and all its memories. Since then it had sat neglected in the hangar, pointedly ignored by both of them. In those first couple of weeks, while his leg was still healing, Jet spent most of his time on the comm with old ISSP buddies. Faye assumed he was trying to learn more about what happened, but she was too wrapped up in herself to care. She didn't want to know anything about it and she spent most of her time at the races just to make sure she didn't find out anything.

Despite that, every few days she would go look for the Bebop, telling herself it was just to make sure her stuff was okay. It was always at the docks on Mars, or in orbit. She'd go in and quietly check around the ship till she found signs of Jet. Sometimes she ran into him, and they exchanged a nod, or "You still here?" Most of the time though Jet was either locked up with his little trees, or out somewhere. She'd find something to eat, or something else to take, and leave again.

Things could have gone on like that, but after a couple weeks Jet finally caught Faye in the kitchen in the act of cracking the top on one of his beers. "I knew there was a rat sneaking around on board!" he snapped in a gravelly voice behind her.

Faye had nearly leaped out of her skin and spun around in surprise. She glared at Jet saying, "I'm checking on my stuff," and mentally kicked herself for sounding defensive. Jet just turned and limped out to the living area, calling back to Faye, "Then get the hell out of _my_ stuff and come here. I've got a job for you."

So they'd gotten back in the cowboy business again, but their luck was just as bad as ever. Jet's leg was keeping him from getting in the action so he mostly did the planning and Faye had to go out for the hunt. But Faye was off her game. She'd gotten used to either working in a team with the others, or in competition with the others. Now she was by herself out there and Jet, instead of being a backseat driver like he used to, he just told her who to get and waited for her to come back. She'd come back empty-handed every time till today. The fiasco with the transfer and escape seemed to seal the end of her career as a bounty hunter.

Faye scowled at the ceiling fan and sat up again. 'We're a damn sideshow here now!' she thought furiously. 'He needs to get off his ass and do some of the grunt work around here!' She looked toward the hallway Jet had disappeared into and caught herself wondering how he was doing. They never talked about what happened, still. She brooded on it and she watched Jet stew about it and both of them followed that one rule: Don't talk about Spike or what happened to him. Until Faye broke the rule of course.

"Well why do I give a shit anyway! I'm grieving too here! What about me?" she whined, slamming down her chopsticks. But even Faye cringed at the complete selfishness of her thoughts. She got up and stalked out of the room, away from Jet. Pacing back and forth some more, Faye debated with herself what to do, or if she should do anything at all. 'This has to stop! He can't do this to me!' she whined, inwardly this time. Jet was always the one who was supposed to know what to do, or not do. He always had before. He was just full of unsolicited advice before. 'Before! Before! Before! Before! Damn! Just say it Faye!' she screamed in her head. She slowly sat down on the top step and contemplated her amazing ability for self-delusion.

After a few moments that seemed like an eternity of self-pity, Faye realized that she could barely hear a distant, rhythmic banging. Curious, she got up to check it out. As she passed the kitchen, she noticed a line of bottles on the counter. 'So that's what's got him worked up tonight. The stupid man went and got hammered and now he can't hold his liquor!' Then Faye paused, staring at the bottles and tried to think of the last time she had seen Jet get drunk. He usually went out for his heavy drinking, and he could drink most hardened cowboys under the table and not show any effects. 'What's different now?' she wondered. Noticing one of the bottles still had some whiskey in it, she took it with her.

The door to the bonsai room was open again. Faye went into the rotating central passageway, listening carefully for the direction of the noise. It was coming from the hangar. She hesitated in the passageway for a couple rotations, then slugged the last of the whiskey, and finally went in.

At first Faye couldn't figure out what was going on. The only illumination was from the lights at the far end on either side of the bay doors. As her eyes adjusted to the dimness, Faye finally made out a figure moving; Jet was beating the crap out of the Swordfish. He was concentrating his efforts on the joint where one of the wings folded. It was already nearly ripped off by the force of Jet's blows. His weapon was some piece of equipment that Faye could no longer identify from the damage it had suffered too.

"Damn Jet! What the hell are you doing!" she yelled stalking toward him. "Are you craa...zy?" Faye paused when she got a better look at Jet. He didn't look at her, but stopped swinging and just stood there next to the once shining red machine. If it wasn't for the metal left arm, she wouldn't have recognized him at all. The top of his jumpsuit was hanging from his waist and he had stripped off his shirt. He was breathing harshly and shining with sweat. Being shirtless seemed to accentuate the breadth of his shoulders. 'Maybe it's just the light in here,' Faye thought, but she couldn't take her eyes off his heavily muscled back. She knew she had seen him without a shirt before, but 'How did I miss _that_?'

"I dunno. I'm drunk." Jet declared gruffly and overly loud. He raised a hand to rub the top of his head. Seeing his habitual gesture of nervousness snapped Faye out of her appreciative reverie. Jet continued, "I got to thinking that maybe if he hadn't been able to fly this thing, then he never would have gone down there and then he wouldn't have...then he..."

His voice trailed off and Faye quietly finished for him, "Then nothing would have happened."

"I just had to make sure it wasn't going to happen again and I just started..." Jet shrugged, still staring up at the mangled engine, his arms hanging at his sides, his breathing normal again already. "It made sense at the time I guess. Kinda silly huh?"

Faye didn't reply, but strode purposefully around to the other side of the Swordfish, picking up a piece of conduit from a shelf on the way. She stared intently at the other wing for a moment, then climbed up on a nearby generator and swung at it with all her might. The force of the contact surprised her. The stinging vibration of the metal surged through her arms making her cry out. She braced herself and swung again and again, getting into a rhythm. Without meaning to, she started screaming, "You...stupid...sonofa...bitch!" in time with each hit, and blinking back tears as she pounded away. "This...is all...your...fault!" Her arms were getting tired and she nearly lost her balance a couple times, but it just felt so damn good she couldn't stop. After a moment she realized that Jet had come around to her side and joined her in the wanton destruction. His more powerful blows, joined with hers, soon had this wing dangling as well. A final, combined hit made it detach completely and it crashed to the floor of the hanger, the sound echoing over and over in the confined space.

They both stood there panting from their exertions and staring at the twisted metal on the floor. Faye couldn't help herself and burst out giggling, then laughing so hard she dropped the conduit. Jet started laughing too, then hit the wall with an "Ooof!" when Faye lost her balance for good and toppled on top of him. They slid down the wall to the floor and Faye was so stunned for a moment that she couldn't move and Jet had to shove her off and lean over to get a look at her.

"You okay?" he asked, closely examining her face. Faye inexplicably found herself studying every part of his features. She couldn't remember the last time she had really looked at him, and certainly she had never been this close to him. Without any conscious thought, her hand came up and touched the place where a deep scar cut across Jet's right eye. Her finger traced along his broken eyebrow, then drifted down to the piece of metal underneath his eye. 'Is his eye real? Or is it a replacement like Spike's?' she wondered. Then the thought of Spike jolted her back to reality. She gasped when she realized she was touching Jet and snatched her hand back, holding it with her other hand against her chest. Looking down, she could see that actually she was touching him in all kinds of places. Their legs were still tangled together and Jet's hips were pressing on her thigh as he leaned over her. Looking back into his face, Faye realized that Jet's expression of horror probably mirrored her own. Finding herself in this position was a long-shot bet that even she would never have made.

Faye quickly looked away and managed to stand up with a minimum of contact with Jet. She looked at the remains of the red wing on the floor. It felt like they had done that a year ago. She glanced sideways at Jet. He had stood up as well and was looking at what they had done and rubbing the back of his head again. He was standing beside her, and so close that Faye knew he had already forgotten she was there or he would have moved away.

"A real piece of work there, huh?" Faye remarked wryly. She meant to return their mood to something more lighthearted. She had taken out two months of grief and despair on that machinery and now she felt drained, empty. It was a nice change to be free for a little while of all the emotion she had been carrying around since what happened. When Jet, startled by her voice, looked down at her, she could see that he was still far from emotionless. For an unguarded moment his eyes revealed the depths of guilt and loss he still wrestled with. 'What's got him so worked up tonight?' she wondered again. He spun around suddenly, heading for the door and Faye felt something twist inside her at the thought of him being alone with that pain. She knew that if their brief moment of destructive comradery hadn't helped him, then more drinking and solitude would certainly make things even worse.

"Jet, wait!" she called. She half-ran across the hangar to catch up and stepped in front of him. Jet kept on walking and Faye put both hands against his chest to try to stop him. 'He has to stop! This has to stop!' she thought desperately. 'I can't watch another one go!'

Jet stopped and looked down at her hands as if amazed that such small things could actually stop him. Faye took advantage of that moment to do the only other thing she could think of. She stood on tiptoe as she slid her hands up around his neck and pulled his head down to her own. She was kissing him then and for a second Jet stood frozen. Faye started to pull back, but then Jet's arms were around her, lifting her up and onto the table that was behind her. Afraid he was going to leave her there, she wrapped her legs around his hips and Jet deepened the kiss. Moments ago she had savored the feeling of emptiness. She had kissed Jet on the impulse to comfort him, she thought. Now she felt as if all of Jet's emotions were pouring into her through his kiss. Emotions that were transformed into a desire that was filling all the emptiness inside her. The rest was inevitable.


	3. Some More Before

Part Three: Some More Before

Faye woke up disoriented. She blinked at the strange shapes around her and the dark ceiling far above, wondering for a moment what had happened to her tiny room while she was asleep. Her brain slowly processed what her eyes could see in the dimness, piecing it with what she sensed around her. She was laying on her side on a quilt which half-covered her and the sleeping man whose arm was holding her pulled tight against him. 'Oh yeah, it's Jet,' she remembered finally.

Faye slowly lifted his arm and sat up next to him, grimacing at the stiffness in her shoulders and back. Jet's breathing hitched and she dropped his arm by accident instead of laying it at his side as she'd meant to; but Jet didn't wake or move and his breathing continued steadily. Faye sighed and felt around for the cigarettes she knew would be nearby. There was plenty of time before she had to be out of there; Jet seemed to be a heavy sleeper.

She pulled her knees up and rested her head on them, staring at the orange glow of her cigarette. Faye let her memory wander through the preceding hours, pausing to savor a few moments, then passing on. She couldn't remember the last time she had actually fallen asleep afterwards. It was a dangerous thing to do, leaving her vulnerable. Of course this was different; she was on the Bebop and it was Jet with her after all. Very different indeed. She let her mind wander and found herself thinking about Ganymede. Spike had told her one time about Jet's old girlfriend on Ganymede. That one he went back to see and then he wound up busting her new boyfriend. Faye remembered feeling bad for ribbing him about an old flame before he went, but when he came back he hadn't been particularly sad or anything. In fact, he had seemed rather satisfied. As if he had just closed the final chapter of a good book after a long time of leaving it unfinished.

She sighed and dragged on her cigarette, telling herself to get up, find her clothes and get out of there. She didn't listen. Instead she turned her head and looked at Jet again, and couldn't help but smile. Before going to sleep, he had put his pants back on and his boots were within reach, just in case. 'How very Jet-like,' she thought, 'Always prepared for anything.' She wondered just how ready he had been for last night. She still wasn't sure if she had planned to put the moves on him, or if the urge just came with the moment. However it was, she had done it. And then he had too. Faye actually blushed a little at the memory, then shook her head.

'Time to go,' she commanded herself and stood, looking about for her clothes. She found them on and around the work table, and just the act of picking them up was difficult. Each piece she put on reminded her of how it had come off. Once finally dressed she stood, hesitant, and stared at Jet again. He hadn't moved at all, his arm still in the awkward position she had dropped it in. 'I'll just go make him more comfortable,' she thought. She meant to just straighten his arm a little, then leave. His breathing continued deep and even. She really meant to leave, but found herself lying down next to him again, this time facing him. 'It's just for a moment,' she told herself, 'There's time still.'

Faye propped her head on her hand and stared into Jet's sleeping face, which was pillowed improbably on his cybernetic left arm. She had grown so accustomed to the metal limb that she rarely noticed it was different, yet now she recalled that he had been careful to never caress her with it. She wondered why. His right hand had been so busy she hadn't noticed at the time. She touched the metal softly, tracing the joint at his elbow and wondered again why he had chosen that cybernetic model rather than an organic one. She had asked him one time, but he had been in no mood for straight answers. He never did seem to be in the mood to tolerate her presence; usually insulting her intelligence, telling her to get off his ship, demanding money, stomping out of the room, or some combination of those. He had never shown any sign of liking her, much less being attracted to her. She wondered again why he had responded to her last night.

Faye sighed and rolled onto her back. Frowning at the ceiling she spoke softly, "It could have been any woman last night..."

"No," a rough voice interrupted her, "Only you, Faye."

Faye snapped her head around and met Jet's unblinking stare just inches away. He hadn't moved at all, making her wonder wildly just how long he had been awake. She scrambled to her feet and did the first thing her instinct told her to do. She ran.

- My husband previewed this for me and declared it boring! -sigh- But it says what I wanted it to say. I wanted to show that while Faye usually acts without thinking first, she does get around to thinking eventually. Stay tuned for more action (of some sort!) in the next chapter. -Neg


	4. After Again

Okay, so it turns out there will be more than four parts! Less angst in this one, yea! Again, it's not my show, but my story. -Neg

Part Four: After Again

"So this is where you've been hiding out!" Faye declared triumphantly. Jet's reaction to Faye's reappearance was all she could have hoped for. He growled under his breath while trying to wipe up the drink he'd spilled all over the tabletop. Faye smiled coyly while helping herself to a chair. Jet's scowl deepened. Faye glanced around the bar which was the sort staffed by overly buxom waitresses in overly revealing uniforms. Of course, no one could beat Faye in the revealing department and she knew it. One waitress was headed for their table, smiling at Jet. Faye's eyes narrowed and the girl quickly changed direction.

"So," she addressed the other man at the table, "You two enjoying yourselves here? I didn't think Jet was the type to need a break from his otherwise monk-like existence." She turned to exchange glares with Jet, but was interrupted by the other man's guffaw of laughter.

"Jet? Monk-like?" He slapped Jet on the back and laughed even harder declaring, "You must be losing your touch if a woman like this thinks you're a...a..." He was laughing so hard now he couldn't even finish his sentence. Several other patrons turned to see what was so funny. The look Jet was giving his shotglass was positively frightening and Faye suddenly wondered if bearding the lion in his den had been such a good idea.

"This isn't a woman, Bob. She's a succubus," Jet said. He turned to Faye, "What are you doing here? You run out of all that food already? I'd hoped you took enough to keep you away a month at least!"

Faye managed to not flinch and snapped, "You've got all my stuff, remember? I'd of just taken it while you were out and spared you my presence, but you changed the keycode!"

"Yeah, I'd like to keep what little of _my_ stuff I've got left!" Jet shot back.

They sat for a moment, the tension between them crackling in the air. Bob was smirking at the two of them. Looking away finally, Faye noticed the waitress from earlier whispering with another who then began to advance toward their table. Jet had just started to stand when the waitress arrived and draped herself over Jet's shoulders, pushing him back down in his seat.

"Jet!" she purred in his ear, "You bad boy! Where were you last week? You promised you'd be here! And I had a present for you too, but now I don't think I'll give it to you!" Bob sniggered and Faye rolled her eyes and snorted inelegantly. The waitress looked Faye up and down, then smiled and sat in Jet's lap. "I think you owe me an apology," she was pouting when Jet stood suddenly, nearly dumping her on the floor, then walked away.

Pointedly ignoring Faye, the waitress turned to Bob and asked, "So what's the deal? What happened last week? And where's that friend he was supposed to bring?"

Bob's expression immediately sobered. "He won't be coming," he answered, glancing quickly at Faye. The waitress left and the two sat in silence.

After a minute Bob said, "So, you're the woman that lives with Jet. I didn't expect you to be so, ah..." Faye gave him a look. "Beautiful," he concluded. "I'm glad to finally meet you. I'm Bob," he said, extending his hand. Faye briefly grasped it, immediately wishing she hadn't as she wiped her hand off under the table. "You know, until tonight, Jet had quite a reputation for charm around here," Bob was continuing.

Faye had dug out a cigarette and was fishing for a lighter when his remark surprised her into saying, "Charm? Jet?"

"Why yes! He was very popular with the girls. They even had a birthday party planned for him. That's why Celia's mad at him; he never showed up." Bob held out his lighter for Faye. "I can be charming too, you know," he drawled, winking.

'You'll have to be a lot more than charming with a nose like that,' Faye thought, leaning back, but she smiled and said, "It's always charming to buy a girl a drink." Bob grinned at her and went to the bar.

Faye sighed, glancing around again. She was surprised to see that Jet hadn't left yet, he was standing by the door talking to the two waitresses. The pouty one was clinging to his arm and the other was giggling inanely at something he had said. Faye's glower was interrupted by Bob placing a drink in front of her and pulling his chair closer. Seeing the direction of her gaze, he said, "Celia and Marcia. They're sisters, very competitive sisters."

Faye just muttered, "Whatever," and downed her drink.

Undaunted by Faye's mood, Bob plunged on, "So what's the deal with you and Jet? You having a spat?"

Faye grimaced and said, "No! It's not like that, we're partners, that's all. Or at least we were."

"Really now? You two fight like an old married couple!" Bob teased. "I'd wondered what was keeping Jet away from his old haunts these days! I suppose you're the reason he didn't come for his birthday?"

"Birthday? I don't even know when it is!" Faye said, and wondered 'What the hell has Jet been telling this guy?'

"It was last week, on the third. Maybe you had a better celebration for him back on the Bebop?" he drawled suggestively. Faye stared at him blankly, not even registering his innuendo at first. She was putting a puzzle together in her head, finally understanding what had made Jet so unusually upset that night he got drunk. The night he tore into the Swordfish. The night they...

She turned toward the door, but Jet was gone now. That waitress, Celia maybe, had said something about Jet's friend coming. He and Spike must have planned to come together that night to celebrate. But Spike was gone by then. She looked at Bob again and said, "I've got to go. Thanks for the drink, buddy."

Bob looked at Faye, smirking again, and said, "Yeah, you need to go and get your stuff, right?"

Faye thought for a moment and decided that maybe she could put this guy to some use. She put on her smile again, leaned close and whispered in his ear, "Say, maybe you'd like to do me a favor and get my things for me? It'd be the perfect excuse for us to meet up again, hmmm?" she suggested, rubbing his arm softly.

"Now why would I do a thing like that when Jet worked so hard to change that damn keycode just so you'd be forced to come find him?" Bob laughed. Standing, he looked at Faye seriously for a moment, then said, "Hey, I'm sorry about your other partner dying. I wish I had gotten to meet him." He squeezed her shoulder briefly, then left the table saying, "You go console Jet. I think I'll go console the sisters about _their_ loss now!"


	5. After All

Part Five: After All

It took Faye another two days to get around to going back to the Bebop. It was still anchored at the dock and this time the side door opened to the old keycode. Faye left the Redtail parked on the deck and sauntered in, ready for a fight. The hangar was empty of any human presence though. Walking across to the door she saw the Swordfish was still in the corner in disarray. Her steps slowed and she found herself looking closer, then spying the old quilt they had slept on that night. Faye stopped then and wondered what Jet's reaction had been when she took off like she did.

In the rotating passageway, Faye noticed a strange tremor. It was accompanied by a low, eerie noise that seemed to wax and wane, though it was so slight she couldn't be sure she was hearing it. 'What the hell is going on here?' Faye wondered, alarmed. She threw open the hatch to the lounge, Glock at the ready. There was no one on the old yellow sofa, or anywhere else in sight. Faye leaned on the rail, confused. The sound now had resolved itself into the notes of a song. A very loud song.

There was no stereo system or speakers on the Bebop. Certain frequencies of sound waves could create annoying and potentially destructive vibrations and interfere with the ship's control system. Now however, the unmistakable sounds of a jazz band were echoing through the ship. Curious, Faye followed the music.

It was coming from Jet's office, which was really the bonsai room. Carefully peeking around the door frame, Faye could barely contain her gasp of laughter. Jet was dressed up in his white suit, complete with a long silk scarf and fedora hat. His back was to her as he swayed with the rhythm of the music coming from the old-fashioned CD player sitting on the workbench. When he turned slightly, Faye was even more surprised to see he was playing a saxophone. He really was playing it, not just pretending. He wasn't very good, some of the notes veering off key at random moments, but he certainly was enthusiastic.

Watching him with the horn and that weird jazz music he liked, Faye had a sudden flash of memory. She was a child, standing in front of a mirror wearing an oversized glittery dress. There were at least a dozen necklaces around her neck and as many bangles up her arms. She was grinning from ear to ear as she turned this way and that to admire her reflection. Clapping both hands over her mouth now, Faye finally realized what was happening. Jet was playing dress-up!

She darted back down the hallway trying vainly to stifle her giggles. In her room, Faye dove into the closet, searching for something suitable to wear for this occasion. She had no idea what sort of attire went with jazz, but there was on formal dress that seemed appropriate. She slipped on the bright red satin sheath and found a pair of heels to match. She took off her headband and applied some even brighter red lipstick. Surveying herself in the mirror, Faye bobbed up and down experimentally, in time with the music which could still be distinctly heard. Something was missing. Then she remembered that most of the fun of dress-up was in having the right props. Jet had his saxophone, and she needed something too.

The dresser drawers were mostly stuffed with old betting books and other trash. Briefly, Faye wondered when she had acquired more empty cigarette packs than clothes. About to give up the search, her eyes fell on an antique cigarette holder she had won in a poker game one time. Perfect! Now, if Jet was still playing, she was ready to play too.

Back at the office doorway, Faye was suddenly seized by stage fright. She pressed herself against the hallway wall, listening. Another song was on, but Jet wasn't playing this time. She heard a clink, and imagined he was pouring himself a drink. Peeking around the door she saw his back was still to her. He held up a whisky glass in mock salute, then drank. He looked good in the suit, really good. She remembered he was wearing it the first time she saw him at that casino. That was where it had all begun. Where she first met Spike and thought he was cute as he let her cheat him. Where she first realized what a prick he could be too. Her first glimpse of Jet had been his crazy grin plastered to the front of the Redtail as she gunned it out of there.

Everything was different now and Faye knew that if there was one thing Jet hated, it was change. So much had changed in the last few months, not to mention the last week! She suspected Jet was ready to just let things go on as they were now, uncomfortable as that was. Faye was tempted to leave the hallway and just let Jet eventually find her in the lounge. Perhaps with one of his beers in hand. He'd gripe and growl and never, ever say one word about what happened. That What Happened was back, and Faye knew something had to be resolved. Jet would never make the first move. It was up to her to do it. The song was ending and her opportunity to join the game had arrived.

Resorting to the tricks she knew best, Faye lounged against the doorway so that the slit in her dress revealed the length of her leg. She softly clapped her hands, causing Jet to spin around so fast, the saxophone that was hanging around his neck arced out and bumped back against his chest. The shock on his face made Faye's heart sink a little. Jet blinked then, and his eyes dropped down, then slowly climbed back up her body. His expression changed to one Faye had seen a thousand times before on other faces, but she didn't mind this time. Elegantly lifting her cigarette in its holder like she had seen in old pictures, she asked, "Is this jazz bar open tonight?"

Suddenly, Jet grinned. He took off his hat, bowed a little and said, "Right this way, miss," as he pulled out his desk chair for her. Faye sat and Jet un-clipped the saxophone and laid it on the bench. He reached over her head to get down a glass, then poured, and handed her the drink with a courtly flourish. The next song on the disc had started to play.

Neither spoke. Faye enjoyed the exotic feel of smoking through the long cigarette holder and blowing thin streams of smoke over her head. Jet pulled a cigar out of his coat pocket and after a moment was making smoke rings. The room, filled now with a brisk trumpet solo, seemed smaller than it really was. The two bounty hunters sat in intimate silence, just listening. Eventually Faye's cigarette was gone, and the music as well.

"Was that the Charlie Parker you like so much?" Faye asked softly. She was curious about this other side of Jet, and hoping she wouldn't break the spell of the moment by speaking.

Jet looked at Faye quizzically and said, "Huh?" Then he laughed gently at her and explained, "No, Charlie played a saxophone. That was Louis Armstrong."

Embarrassed, Faye looked away toward the saxophone lying on the bench. Jet followed her gaze, then picked it up and went over to a black case on the other side of the room. He started to take the sax apart to put it away and said, "I just try to play along sometimes."

"Jet, wait," Faye called starting to cross to him. She stopped mid-stride when she remembered the last time she had said those words and reached out to Jet. She pushed the memory aside. Going to the case, she picked up the mouthpiece and gave it to him. "Can you play anything by Charlie Parker? I don't think I've ever heard him. Besides, I thought this jazz bar had live music," she smiled up at Jet.

"I'm not very good you know," he started.

"But you obviously enjoy it, and it's not like I can tell the difference anyway," Faye said. Of course, earlier even she could hear that he was missing notes, but she felt like being generous.

Jet began looking through the pile of old CD's. Faye helped herself to another shot of the whiskey and surreptitiously slid a cigarette out of Jet's pack on the desk. Lifting the long holder again she asked, "You got a light, mister?"

"For my own cigarette? Sure thing, miss," Jet said, then winked. Now it was Faye's turn to be shocked. She hadn't thought the old sourpuss was capable of winking. Play around on the sax in odd clothes, sure, but winking, that was just strange! Then again, Jet didn't look nearly so old, or as sour as usual, at the moment. He looked comical just then, the saxophone's reed hanging out of his grinning mouth as he held the lighter out. Faye dropped her eyes and concentrated on getting her cigarette lit. Jet turned to queue up a song and she sat down again in the desk chair.

"This was the first song I learned. I know it pretty well now," he said.

A piano started the song, then Jet came in with the sax and Faye realized that he really was good at this song. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back to listen as the notes flowed up and down with the piano playing a muted accompaniment. There was a brief piano solo in the middle, then it was almost like Jet's sax was conversing with the one on the recording as the two melodies intertwined. Jet's horn soared above the other at the end as he played a quirky little trill, and the song was over.

Opening her eyes, Faye saw Jet looking at her questioningly. "Play it again?" she found herself begging, leaning forward.

Without comment, Jet restarted the CD and the ballad filled the air again. This time she watched him playing and it seemed almost as if there was some message he was sending through that song. The saxophone's brassy notes were insistent in her ears and Jet's eyes held hers even as the last trill died away.

Grey and green eyes remained locked until Faye caught herself starting to take a step forward. Confused, she looked away, unable to remember when she had stood, or why. The song was till reverberating inside her head as Jet turned to put the saxophone away. Dizzy, she reached out for something to hold onto and her hand found the desk and the open CD case lying there. Picking it up, her eyes were drawn to the only Charlie Parker song on the album: _Lover Man_.

Jet had made the first move after all.

* * *

I had fun writing this one! There really is a Charlie Parker song called _Lover Man_. As soon as I heard it I thought of Jet. You can hear it at this website: www. charlie-bird-parker. com There are three other songs there as well, all great. In case anyone else is interested, there is another Charlie Parker song called _Romance Without Finance_, which really is just perfect for a CB story! Let me know if you do one! -Neg 


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